


we can't make any promises now, can we, babe

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: i blame all the sexy songs for this [6]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Why does Junmyeon keep returning when he knows there is nothing to it?Then again, what is this 'nothing' between them anyway?





	we can't make any promises now, can we, babe

**Author's Note:**

> fic title taken from the song 'Delicate' by Taylor Swift

Kim Junmyeon doesn’t want to be here, because he knows he will run into _him_ no matter how hard he tries not to. This party is the kind of party Wu fucking Yifan would show up at and if it wasn’t for Sojin insisting, he wouldn’t even be here.

Sojin is busy talking to some executive from another brand, probably trying to sell Junmyeon and his face again to get them to _get_ him to promote their clothes or products. Junmyeon zones out soon after and leaves his manager’s side to go look for something to drink. He wasn’t looking to get smashed, but oh fuck, who cares. His leather jacket is stifling, and his gelled hair is itchy, and he rather be home drunk in his pyjamas.

The hall has giant mirrored walls and as Junmyeon passes by one, he stops to look at himself. He runs his hand through his freshly dyed platinum blond hair. He pushes his hair back, his dark roots showing, and it falls back, covering his eyes and he wonders if he needs a haircut. He is dressed in a ratty t-shirt with the Ramones band logo printed on it, which looks like he got it from the flea market, second-hand, but yeah, not really. His denim has too many holes in them, and there are too many piercings on his face as well. He gently traces the snakebite on his mouth, and as he turns, the light glints off his eyebrow and industrial piercing. Yeah, if anyone saw him, they can easily place him in the country’s biggest alternative metal band.

He resumes walking to the bar and he is happy for the first time since he came here when he sees they are serving Jack Daniels. He orders for a Jack and coke, and leans against the counter, watching the bartender mixing the drink. The guy places the drink on the counter when a hand comes out from nowhere and grabs the glass. Junmyeon swivels his head around, ready to fucking chew the person’s head off—instead his mouth just drops.

As expected, Wu fucking Yifan is finally here, dressed in a soft blue sweatshirt, skinny blue jeans and Nike shoes. His hair is cropped short, the bangs falling into his eyes—eyes which are gleaming down at him, his mouth curved in the smirk. He puts the glass down and Junmyeon grabs it before Yifan can touch it. He also tries to ignore how Yifan rakes his eyes over his body in slow motion. The fucker even licks his lips and Junmyeon wants to pretend he doesn’t feel warm all over at that.

Junmyeon takes a huge sip of the drink, almost emptying the glass, and watches as Yifan makes himself comfortable on the barstool. Junmyeon hates how he can’t look away, hates how he cannot ignore how hot Yifan looks in his dark blue jeans. He picks up an ice cube with his tongue and bites into it hard as Yifan gazes at him with that stupid, sexy, but mostly stupid, smirk.

The taller man leans forward and says, “Is that new?”

“What is new?” Junmyeon mutters.

Yifan leans forward some more and with his finger, gently traces the industrial piercing on Junmyeon’s left ear. A keen shudder ripples through Junmyeon’s body, which he tries to ignore, as Yifan touches his ear. Junmyeon swats his hand away and his jaw clenches as he bites out, “Yes, and stop touching me.”

Yifan leans back a little and his smirk seems smugger as he says, “You didn’t say that two weeks ago.”

Junmyeon bites down on his lower lip as he inhales deeply and closes his eyes. The grip on his whiskey glass tightens and Junmyeon is wondering what would happen if he threw the rest of the drink at Yifan’s face. However, he opens his eyes and hisses, “That was a mistake.”

Yifan raises both his eyebrows, and then orders himself a drink. He looks back at Junmyeon again and leans closer, till his mouth is dangerously close to Junmyeon’s ear, and he whispers, “The sixth time can hardly be called a mistake.”

Junmyeon bites the inside of his cheek as he wills his body to not respond to the deep, husky voice, to stomp down the desire slowly coiling in his gut. He remembers the last time when they met in another gala and the dress code was more formal and Yifan looked illegal in his Balmain tuxedo. The hip-hop artist doesn’t usually dress up so much, and Junmyeon had avoided him throughout the night and pretended that his dick wasn’t throbbing due to Yifan’s slicked back hair and the way the black shirt fit his body. But then he got cornered in the restroom and one thing led to another and Junmyeon found himself sneaking out of Yifan’s palatial apartment at four in the morning the next day.

If this was the only time, Junmyeon wouldn’t have had this strange feeling of lust and rage churning in his gut. Six times, he had fallen prey to Yifan six times, and he really wonders why. They have nothing in common, and the whole world thinks they are two straight men who bang their female groupies every week. While Junmyeon knows he swings both ways, he isn’t sure what Yifan’s deal is. Looking back at the first time they met, Junmyeon would have laughed if anyone had told him he would find himself in bed with Yifan by the end of the night.

That night had ended terribly—in the good way. Junmyeon was edging close to drunkenness, and Yifan had sploshed his drink all over his Gucci shirt. Junmyeon was ready to punch Yifan, but then the rapper pulled him close and kissed him, and god damn could the rapper kiss. It wasn’t like they weren’t both eyeing each other throughout the event. Yifan looked hot in his loose black Vetements t-shirt and his ripped skinny jeans. And it had been so long since Junmyeon had sex, and the night truly ended well with Yifan’s bruising grip on his hips as he rode the rapper willingly.

He was ready to blame the sex on his intoxication, though he was well aware he wasn’t nearly that drunk. He did sneak out of Yifan’s apartment and thought that was the end of it. Plot twist, it wasn’t. Yifan found him again and they ended up at the former’s apartment _again._ And then the third time happened, and the fourth time, and so on.

Yeah, okay, Junmyeon knows they are “hardly mistakes”. But damn, as if he would ever admit to it. He is prepared to lose a limb than admit that there is something between him and the Chinese-Canadian rapper. They are pulled towards each other, despite how much Junmyeon tries to fight or deny it. He cannot resist Yifan and it both frustrates him and amazes him.

Yifan gets his drink—same as Junmyeon, except neat—and sips it, his eyes never leaving Junmyeon. Yifan rakes his eyes over Junmyeon, taking in his new hair job and his new piercing, and the usual snakebites on his lips, his ridiculously soft, pink lips. Junmyeon has makeup on his eyes and Yifan can feel his dick twitch in his pants. His eyes go down and lands on the slit on Junmyeon’s thigh where the denim frays and his thick thighs, and his skin— _deadly_ inviting skin—peaks through. A certain memory of fucking those thighs floats up in his conscious, and yes, his dick is positively twitching now.

He gulps the rest of his drink, ignoring the sharp burn of the alcohol and slams the glass down on the counter, which attracts Junmyeon’s attention, who frowns at him. Yifan gets down from the stool and crowds Junmyeon against the counter. At that moment, a crowd of people pass by, shielding them for a second and Yifan takes the opportunity to brush his long fingers against the rip in the jeans Junmyeon is wearing and saying, “Meet me out in the back in five, I will have my car running.”

Junmyeon gets startled when he feels Yifan’s cool fingertips on his hot skin. He knew Yifan was closely scrutinising him, his eyes especially stuck on his mouth. He knew, he did, so it doesn’t really surprise him when Yifan asks him. Yifan leaves, disappearing into the crowd. Junmyeon finishes the rest of his drink and his heart thumps. He runs his tongue over his lip rings, he could refuse and leave Yifan hanging and wondering; he doesn’t owe Yifan anything after all.

But the more primal part of him wants Yifan, wants the taller to hold him, touch him, fuck him, drive him wild and wanton and make him beg. His skin prickles and the leather jacket gets even more uncomfortable when he remembers how Yifan’s mouth feels and tastes like. Fuck, he needs to go, who is he kidding…

He locates Sojin, and the woman doesn’t even wait before she scowls, “I saw Yifan. Be careful, we don’t the media to have a field day.”

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and kisses his manager on her cheek and walks away. He locates the backdoor soon enough and when he opens it, he finds Yifan in his red Maserati. The windows are rolled down and Junmyeon shuffles over, wrenching the passenger door open and sliding in. Yifan starts the car as soon as the door shuts.

Junmyeon spots the cigarette carton on the dashboard and he smiles when he realises it is his. He picks it up and laughs when he finds only two cigarettes remaining—he left it in Yifan’s car the last time and it was mostly full. “I thought you didn’t like Marlboros.”

Yifan shrugs as his car winds through the busy streets of Los Angeles. “You can say I developed a taste for it.”

Junmyeon scoffs as he fishes out his lighter from his jacket pocket. He lights two up and hands one to Yifan, who takes it with a low murmur of thanks. They smoke in silence, though it isn’t devoid of tension. Junmyeon knows Yifan is glancing at him whenever he can, so he decides to do something about it.

Junmyeon shimmies out of his jacket and chucks it on the backseat. The loose t-shirt stretches over his shoulder, nearly slipping off it and Junmyeon does nothing to pull it up. Junmyeon knocks his head back and parts his lips, holds his breath and the smoke furls out slowly, snaking out of his lips and he can hear the low curse Yifan mutters under his breath.

He turns his head and the car stops at a red light. He smirks at Yifan, who is looking at him with his eyes narrowed. Junmyeon chucks the cigarette and reaches forward, grabs Yifan's collar and crashes his mouth against the other's.

Yifan groans as Junmyeon's teeth catches on his lower lip. Junmyeon tugs at it and sucks on it before abruptly stopping. He pushes away and his hand slip under the blue sweatshirt. His fingers skitter over Yifan's abdomen, closer to the waistband of his jeans.

The light changes and Yifan growls as he grabs Junmyeon's wrist. He says, his voice harsh, "Funny how you hate me yet you are always the one to make the first move when we are alone."

The car starts and Junmyeon grins before leaning forward and nipping at Yifan's ear. He whispers, "That's because you are ridiculously hot and I hate you so much for that." He flicks his tongue over the lobe and Yifan's hands on the steering wheel shake.

Yifan further shudders and tries to not lose his control when he feels Junmyeon's hand brush lightly over his crotch. He spares Junmyeon a glance, and damn that was a bad idea.

Junmyeon is pressed close to him, well, as close he can get with the seatbelt restraining him. His blond hair sweeps over his eyes, which are gleaming and are filled with lust. And his tongue, his stupid, long tongue, sweeps over his lip and his stupid collarbones are on full display and Yifan can feel himself getting harder.

Yifan is close to his apartment, he keeps telling himself to hold on and say nothing as Junmyeon's mouth latches on to his neck, now gently nipping at his skin. His hot, wet mouth and his cold lip piercings are a pleasant contrast on Yifan's skin. However, his resolve snaps when Junmyeon unzips his jeans and slips his hand underneath his briefs.

He jolts and the car skids over the pavement. Yifan stops the car and grabs the back of Junmyeon's head. He tugs harshly at the roots and Junmyeon's answering groan is deep and it turns Yifan on some more. Yifan presses down hard on Junmyeon's mouth and doesn't wait to shove his tongue inside. Junmyeon gasps and his hand curls tighter around Yifan's cock.

Yifan pulls back, Junmyeon chases his lips but Yifan covers his mouth with his hand and says, "Stop. You will get what you want. At this rate, I might end up killing us both."

Junmyeon furrows his eyebrows as his need pulsates in his blood and pools at his loins. He wants Yifan so much, and so badly now. He moves his hand—the one wrapped around Yifan's cock and watches Yifan groan and throw his head back. He leans forward and licks the tip and Yifan cries out, "Fuck!"

Junmyeon smiles as he swallows the tip, pressing his tongue against the slit. The tug on his hair gets tighter and Yifan moans at a particularly hard lick. The taller moans, "You are such a cockslut Junmyeon. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Junmyeon removes his mouth and straightens up, looking into Yifan's eyes, which are blown wide in lust. Junmyeon smiles as he presses his thumb on the tip of Yifan's cock, "I don't do this with everyone Yifan."

"Huh," Yifan scoffs. "Lucky me then." He pulls Junmyeon in for another bruising kiss, his tongue laving over the cool metal and the soft lips. He ends it too soon for Junmyeon's liking, who whimpers and pouts, thoroughly displeased. Yifan chuckles, "But now, my little bunny, you have to be patient. And then when we reach home, you can do whatever you want."

 

The five minutes it took to get to Yifan’s apartment was hell for them both. They were both turned on, and highly aroused, and Junmyeon sighed in relief when Yifan finally parked his car. They rush to the lift and since it is a warehouse turned into studio apartments, the wait for the lift is short and Yifan only lives on the second floor.

Yifan unlocks the door and Junmyeon pushes him in, not forgetting to lock the door behind him. He pushes Yifan against the bare brick wall and presses his lips against the taller without much preamble. Junmyeon also presses his body against Yifan’s, leaving no space in between. Yifan grabs his waist and tilts his head to suck on Junmyeon’s lower lip. The shorter whimpers at a harsh tug at his piercings. Junmyeon pulls back slightly for air and Yifan groans when he looks down at his lip, now red and swollen and Yifan can _feel_ it in his dick. His fingers sink in Junmyeon’s hair, slightly rough due to all the chemicals and he pulls him for another kiss, not really letting Junmyeon inhale properly.

Yifan slips his tongue inside and he tastes the whiskey and smoke, and he decides he likes it, _loves_ it. Their tongues brush and Yifan makes a choking sound at the back of his throat. His large hands splay against Junmyeon back and slides down till they cup the shorter man’s ridiculously perfect butt; he squeezes them and Junmyeon groans. Yifan tastes each corner of Junmyeon’s perfect, pretty mouth.

Yifan turns Junmyeon around and pushes him up the wall; Junmyeon immediately, on instinct, wraps his legs around the taller man’s waist. Yifan cups his ass and lightly kneads the flesh as the kiss becomes filthier, messier and there is drool running down Junmyeon’s chin. They part, their lungs burning for air. A string of saliva connects their lips, their mouths swollen and red and tingling.

Yifan rubs his thumb over Junmyeon’s lower lip, tugging at the piercings. Junmyeon moans and Yifan feels the heat under his skin intensifying. He plants a soft kiss on Junmyeon’s chin, then down his neck and sucks on his pulse for a while. He moves, Junmyeon is still wrapped around him and he walks them to the bed. He bends his knees and the gentleness that he shows as lays Junmyeon down on the mattress does something to the latter’s heart, but he ignores it.

Junmyeon sinks into the soft mattress and sighs as Yifan pushes his t-shirt up. Junmyeon helps Yifan take it off and his mouth trails kisses all over his heated skin, while his hands cup the sides of his body, tracing his tattoos with a ridiculously light touch. The touch and the kisses make Junmyeon breathless and he closes his eyes as his fingers sink into Yifan’s soft, dark hair. Somehow, Junmyeon can feel something is different tonight—in the way Yifan is kissing him, touching him.

Yifan’s thumb flicks over his nipples and Junmyeon hisses. Soon, Yifan teeth graze over it, his tongue pressing flat on it and Junmyeon arches off the bed. Junmyeon tugs at Yifan’s hair, to pull him over himself, to find his mouth and kiss him. He does, and he flips them over, his tongue curling around Yifan’s, sucking on it. He splays his hands under the sweatshirt and he can feel Yifan’s muscles quiver under his fingertips. He moves his hand over Yifan’s crotch, pressing his palm against the bulge. He unzips Yifan’s denims and his fingers wrap around his cock again. Junmyeon pulls back and heaves, pushing air back into his lungs. He locks his gaze with Yifan and whispers, “Let’s finish what we started, yes?”

Yifan sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he nods. Junmyeon drags his denims and underwear down his mile-long legs. Yifan had turned just one light on in the entire apartment and the light from the entrance doesn’t reach them properly, shrouding them in a halted, half-darkness. The other bit of light pours from outside, from a neon sign from a billboard. The pink light bathes them and when Junmyeon licks his lips, Yifan has to bite his lip, to stop himself from groaning at how sinful Junmyeon looks, how much he wants to ruin him.

Yifan, however, has to release his lip and moan when Junmyeon finally wraps his lips around his cock. He keeps one hand curled around the root of Yifan’s cock and the other traces the tattoo on the other’s hipbone. Both their bodies are covered in tattoos and Junmyeon has taken his time to admire the one’s on Yifan before, and the other had done the same. It’s another thing they have in common—besides the insatiable sexual desire they have for each other. But Junmyeon pushes these stupid thoughts away and focuses on blowing Yifan’s mind, all pun intended.

He traces the vein on Yifan’s cock with his fingernail as he laves his tongue over the tip and under. He wasn’t joking when he told Yifan the rapper was the only one. Junmyeon really likes Yifan’s cock, if not the whole person. Sex with another man hasn’t ever been this great and Junmyeon cannot remember the last person he willingly gave head to. And Yifan’s cock, heavy, thick and hot in his mouth is _perfect_. By now, he knows what Yifan likes and how far he himself can take. He inhales deeply before hollowing his cheeks and going down as much as he can. Thank goodness for his gag reflex, because Yifan does buck his hips (as Junmyeon is aware of) and his cock hits the back of Junmyeon’s throat. The singer groans and Yifan fucks up into his mouth again and again. Junmyeon is glad he doesn’t have any singing or talking to do tomorrow.

Yifan has his eyes squeezed shut as Junmyeon deepthroats him. But fuck, he doesn’t want to come like this. So, with much self-restraint, he pulls Junmyeon off his cock and pushes himself up. He notes the way Junmyeon’s lips are swollen and there is drool on his chin, but his eyes are wide with lust and his erection is straining hard against his jeans.

Yifan flips them over and tugs the rest of the clothes Junmyeon is wearing off his body. He grabs the lube that he keeps beside his bed and coats his fingers with the cool liquid. Junmyeon whimpers when Yifan traces his rim with his thumb; his fingers curl around Yifan’s biceps and he says, “Please, don’t make me wait, fuck.”

Yifan leans forward to slot his mouth against Junmyeon’s as he pushes two fingers him at a time. He knows Junmyeon can take it, and a choked groan and his fingers flexing on Yifan’s arms tells the latter that the other is okay. Yifan scissors his fingers and Junmyeon breaks the kiss to moan, wet and filthy. He locks his gaze with Yifan and the latter rasps out, “Fuck, you are so perfect like this babe.”

Junmyeon feels that odd tug in his heart again at the stupid nickname. He knows he could tell Yifan to stop calling him that, but he doesn’t want to, not when Yifan’s finger are long and perfect and fucking into him right. Yifan jabs at his prostate again and again and he finds himself crying, “Fuck, fuck, I need you inside, now, _please_!”

Yifan groans as he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the bedsheet. He grabs Junmyeon’s hips and pulls him down, hard and fast, on his cock. He watches as Junmyeon arches his back off the bed with a long, drawn out moan. Junmyeon grabs the bedsheet as Yifan pulls out, till his tip before thrusting back in. Junmyeon cries out, “ _Yifan_!”

Yifan likes it, he likes to watch Junmyeon unravel and break down in front of him like this. Usually, the lead singer of Electric Kiss is this composed, intellectual artist who looks like nothing can rattle him. But when he is under Yifan like this, his body on fire and his mind melted by desire so strong that he can’t see beyond it, he lets go. He is loud and wanton, and his body seeks for Yifan, who doesn’t stop fucking into him hard and fast. His face is flushed, his lips are red and his body glimmers with a light layer of sweat, and Yifan reckons he will never see anything so sublime.

Yifan admires Junmyeon, his talent, his intellect, but when he is moaning out Yifan’s name like there is no tomorrow, Yifan feels an emotion he doesn’t want to describe. Junmyeon is only like this with him—he knows, he is aware that Junmyeon doesn’t go home for illicit trysts with anyone but Yifan and the rapper had been finding himself do the same since his first night with Junmyeon.

Yifan doesn’t pull out completely as he moves his hands up to Junmyeon waist and groans, “Wrap you hands around my neck Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon does as he is told and Yifan pulls him up. Junmyeon groans at the sudden change in position, and Yifan is deeper like this, and his body decides to overtake his mind and he starts bouncing up and down in Yifan’s lap. He moans loudly when Yifan cups his buttocks and squeezes them, and he feels a keen ripple of pleasure travel up his body when Yifan uses this leverage to pull Junmyeon harder over his cock, which hits Junmyeon perfectly where he wants to. Each thrust sends him closer and closer to the edge and he feels the sweat trickle down his spine.

Yifan knows he is close to his undoing when Junmyeon starts rolling his hips and the room smells like sex and them, and a part inside him crows at that. He sinks his teeth into Junmyeon’s collarbones and his tongue licks over the sweat collected on the other’s skin. His fingers sink further into the soft globes and he moans when Junmyeon starts clenching harder and harder on his cock, which throbs and aches now. Then, Junmyeon shudders in his arms and wraps a hand around his own cock, chasing his release, further increasing the pressure on Yifan’s cock, and the latter groans as he tries pushing past. The tension tightens and tightens before Yifan moans and his cock pulsates as he comes long and hard inside Junmyeon.

Soon after, Junmyeon follows and his cum coats his hands and Yifan’s torso. He puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder as he rides his climax. Yifan wraps his arms around his waist and mouths along his shoulder as they both try to come down from the high.

After a while, Yifan moves them and they end up horizontal on the bed, with Junmyeon on the mattress and Yifan half on him and half off him. Junmyeon heaves and tries to calm his heart down. He can feel Yifan’s hot breath fanning over his sweat-slick skin and a large part in him wants to stay, wants Yifan to ask him to stay. But he knows it won’t happen, so he pushes Yifan off himself and sits up. He feels Yifan’s cum on the inside of his thigh and he grimaces slightly, not disgusted just angry at himself. Why does he keep doing this every time?

Junmyeon grabs his discarded jeans and he is about to grab the rest of his clothes when he hears a low, “Hey, stay.”

Yifan says the words Junmyeon wanted to hear and not hear at the same time, and something in his voice surprises Junmyeon; it is soft, almost pleading and Junmyeon feels it tugging at his heart.

Junmyeon drops his pants and takes a deep breath. He looks over his back, down at Yifan, who looks so beautiful, so sinful under the neon light. He speaks, his voice measured and careful, “You know I won’t make any promises, you know we—”

Yifan chuckles, a bit bitter as he pushes himself up on one elbow. “Maybe, we can pretend it is possible sometimes. I know we aren’t right together, but it wouldn’t hurt to live in a fantasy every once in a while.”

Junmyeon smirks as he lies down on the bed; Yifan lies back down as well and they kiss. It doesn’t have the frenzied urgency they are familiar with, it is tender and delicate and Junmyeon thinks maybe Yifan’s suggestion isn’t too awful.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> why yes hello if you wonder why Junmyeon is suddenly a metal band member:  
> it is because i am still not over his voice in the Mama metal mix and when will SM give me the studio version


End file.
